


Just Go With It

by bionically



Series: Love Fest 2020 [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Charlie and Neville are professors, F/M, Fairest of The Rare's Love Fest 2020, Fake Dating, Humor, Humorous Ending, Multi, Romantic Comedy, Triwizard Tournament, they're both after Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bionically/pseuds/bionically
Summary: Charlie and Hermione have a deal, but Neville also wants in. (Not as dirty as this sounds. Sorry.)fake-dating#TeamAphrodite #lf2020
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom
Series: Love Fest 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643674
Comments: 24
Kudos: 105
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	Just Go With It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsofdramione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofdramione/gifts), [noxsoulmate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/gifts).



> unbeta'd. all of these are unbeta'd but will be cleaned up after the Love Fest 2020 is over.

It was something that started out in a fit of desperation. 

Hermione saw a glimpse of the handsy wizard from work and hastily looked around for the nearest exit point. In her panic, she dropped her wand on the floor, and she ducked down for a microsecond to retrieve it. When she straightened, she almost shrieked in surprise to find Rufus Lestrange standing in front of her, less than twenty centimetres away, like a pop-up jack-in-the-box.

The fact that this Pureblood should always seek her out wasn't the strangest thing about this situation. It was the fact that he always looked like he was enjoying some twisted private joke. Maybe Hermione was being superficial, but his wide, toothy mouth combined with extremely arched eyebrows gave him the look of a cartoon Joker, and not in a good way.

"Hello there, _Hermione_ ," Rufus said, putting undue emphasis on her name as though there was a joke there she didn't get. 

Hermione smiled back uneasily. "I'm actually on my way—"

"Actually, I'd like to speak to you about something of _monumental importance_ ," he said. His eyes didn't blink and he fingered his wand in a suggestive way that made Hermione want to gag. His long, knobbly fingers stroked his wand in a manner that was surely against wand protocol. "Your interview with the mass murderer, Cyril Connaught, how was that? Was he— _disturbing?"_

Not as disturbing as you, was what Hermione wanted to say, if not for the fact that Rufus Lestrange was their French liaison for the policy briefing. 

Hermione tried to skirt around the bar stool but realised, as she had before, that Rufus had no notion of _personal space_. He actually moved closer, as though he had to maintain the same distance of a handbreadth from her nose.

There wasn't even anyone she knew in here to save her from this horrifyingly close encounter.

Right at that moment, Hermione saw glimpse of red and shouted, "Charlie!" at the top of her lungs. She was so loud that Rufus stepped back for a second (but then he was right back in her face again). Hermione waved her hand frantically, hoping that Charlie wouldn't just smile and walk away. To make certain of it, she began to wave her entire arm exaggeratedly. "Over here!" 

Luckily, she was standing near the bar. Charlie looked up and ambled over. "Hey, Herm—"

Hermione launched herself into his arms, hearing faintly his muffled "oomph" as his arms closed around her in an effort to stay upright. His hand patted her back, once, twice, and then lifted away. Over his shoulder, Hermione saw Rufus's assessing eyes following Charlie's every movement.

"Am I glad to see you!" Hermione said loudly, placing one hand high up on Charlie's chest, holding her palm flush against his pectoral. She saw his eyebrows lift, but before he could disengage himself, she rushed into speech. "When did you get back? Just now?"

"Actually, I've been—"

Hermione burst into loud, hysterical laughter, slapping him on the arm as though Charlie said something funny. He broke off with a quizzical frown. "I've missed you so, so much," she said. Rufus's Joker stare emboldened her enough to do what she would never do under other circumstances—she stood on tiptoes with puckered lips, her insistent hands pulling Charlie's shoulder down as he resisted. This wasn't cutting it, not at all.

"Have you had too much—"

Hermione finally had to jump to kiss Charlie's cheek. "Charlie's my boyfriend," she said to Rufus. "Fiancé. Almost." At the frozen look on Charlie's face, she tittered like the most dimwitted person to have ever existed. "Lover, definitely."

Charlie blinked, but she saw the moment he understood. His mouth was open in an unspoken "ah," and then he curved an arm around Hermione's shoulders. The arm was heavy and warm against her neck, but he was still holding himself gingerly; trying to respect their boundaries, probably. 

Rufus's eyes lingered on Charlie's hair for a moment. Then, "Charlie Weasley, I presume?"

"Yes—"

"The dragonologist, yes," Hermione interrupted. "Look at the muscles on him. And this mark here—that's from fighting a dragon." Hermione boldly unrolled part of Charlie's sleeve to show a ten-centimetre long scar. 

"Right," Charlie said after a pause. "That's what it was."

"Weren't you dating a Ronald Weasley only recently?" was Rufus's surprising follow-up question.

Hermione gulped. She hadn't counted on Rufus being so on top of gossip. What was he, a stalker? "That was some time ago," she said, her breath coming in shallow and fast. Dear Lord, this man was so creepy. 

"That must be so weird for you," Rufus continued, swinging his unblinking eyes from Hermione to Charlie. One thumb was hooked around a belt loop, and the other hand was now stroking his chin in the same lewd, repetitive manner as he hummed to himself.

Hermione repressed a shudder.

"Not at all," Charlie said, the first time he had been able to complete a sentence so far. He smiled at Rufus and gave the smaller man a mock punch to the shoulder. "When you see a good thing, you have to make your move, isn't that right?"

Rufus's shoulder swung back when Charlie's fist bumped him, and then he took another step backwards. He wasn't humming anymore. "I suppose."

"I've been told I'm like a dragon in that regard. I like to keep all the things I hold dear and singe everything else that gets in my way," Charlie said without inflexion but sounding deadly serious at the same time. Hermione blinked up at him, marveling at how quickly he stepped up to bat. He wasn't even looking at her when he flashed a smile at Rufus that showed off his canines. "That's love, innit?"

"Uh, right, right," Rufus said, frowning now. He took another step back and then he made the classic move of flipping over his wrist to look at his watch before realising he wasn't wearing a watchpiece. "I actually have somewhere I need to be…"

Hermione watched Rufus stumble away from them and push open the door to leave. She turned to Charlie with a drop-jawed expression of awe. "Charlie. You were _amazing_."

"I know," he said. "Who's that creep?"

"Someone I have to endure for a month," Hermione said gloomily. "Thanks to you, he won't be trying to breathe my carbon dioxide anymore, though."

"Your what?"

Hermione waved it away. "Let me buy you a drink. You deserve it after a manly display like that."

"Thanks," he said cheerfully and flexed a bicep in a comically exaggerated fashion. "I was rather into theatre and dramatics as a child. Good to know I've still got it."

* * *

There were two sisters from the Beauxbatons delegation who were the talk of the Triwizard Tournament. One was the very young Charms professor, and the other was her seventh year sister. They were beautiful and blonde, and they floated through the halls as though they were perpetually dancing.

Hermione thought that Ron would rather have liked to see the sight, but unfortunately, he hadn’t been called up to the school as she had.

So it was with some amusement that she saw the two women chatting with Neville Longbottom and Charlie Weasley, the Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures professors. Their body language was purposefully sinuous and limber, in that giving way that women had when they were flirting. Hermione smiled at the two men from behind the women’s back. She wanted to flash them a thumbs-up but thought that would be going too far. One of the women was still a student, after all, for all that she looked and acted as though she were a performing artist.

After lunch, as all the students were congregating outside on the grounds, Neville came running up to Hermione. His hair was askew across his forehead, and he was slightly out of breath. “Ha,” was his first panted word to her. “So, Hermione, am I glad to see you!”

“Oh?” Hermione said, frowning slightly. “Is there an issue with the delegation?” She had been put in charge of the Beauxbatons group, and her coworker was in charge of handling the troop from Durmstrang.

“Er,” Neville said and gave a short laugh. His hands were on his thighs, and he looked like he was still trying to catch his breath.

Hermione waited patiently. Then, as the minute stretched out, she started to flip through the folder in her hands. There were still so many last-minute details she needed to sort out. She should be—

That was the exact moment Neville spun her around and hugged her fiercely, crumpling the file in between them. 

“What on earth?” Hermione said as soon as she had recovered from her shock. She pushed Neville off and stared down at the wrinkled folder in her hand, looking up to glare at him.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, but somehow she got the feeling he was not at all sorry.

“What was that all about?” Hermione asked him, a bit testily, as she flicked at her lapel and tapped on the folder to restore it back to pristine order.

“Nothing,” he said, and smiled at her. Then he bent down and gave her a dry peck on her cheek before flicking her chin playfully with a gentle finger.

Hermione frowned at him, watching him warily as he loped off, whistling all the while. She shook her head in bemusement after his disappearing figure.

“ _There_ you are, darling,” said a loud voice. 

Hermione jumped and turned around to find Charlie there, a wide, welcoming grin on his face. He stopped a few metres from her and clapped his hands together as though he had been searching for her for a very long time, instead of just seeing her a few minutes ago. She took an uneasy step backwards.

“My lovely, lovely girlfriend,” he said in the same volume. Then, before Hermione could react, he pounced on her.

Alright, so he didn’t exactly jump, but it felt like he did, as he crossed the distance in less than a second and had his arms completely wrapped around her shoulders. One hand even reached down to squeeze her arse, making her squeal and try to dart away. 

“Charlie!” Hermione shouted. “What is the matter—”

In her ear, he whispered in a rush, “Shh, just go with it.”

“What?” Hermione said with another yelp as he squeezed her other buttock. Then she got it. “Oh,” she said but pushed him off with a strong shove. “That’s very nice, _dear_ , but I’m _working._ Maybe later?”

“Come up to my private chambers?” Charlie said, still at a low roar audible at fifty paces.

Hermione winced. Exactly who was Charlie hiding fro—

She caught sight of the Beauxbatons sisters right at that moment. They were standing in the shade of a tree, heads uncommonly close in the stance of two women in the middle of whispering to each other from behind cupped hands.

“Wait, why?” she demanded in a whisper. “Just look at them! They’re gorgeous. Well, one of them is still a student, so please steer clear, but—”

“ _No,_ ” Charlie growled through unmoving lips. “I don’t like being chased by bloody forward hussies. And you owe me, Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but acquiesced, holding up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, _Neville_ has already done the same thing you just did.”

Charlie growled again, this time baring his teeth. “Longbottom? He’s a bloody fast runner, isn’t he? We were _just_ talking about it at lunch, and he said may the best man succeed—ah, I see what he did. The little fucker.”

“So, now what?” Hermione asked, patting him on his shoulder to calm him down. “Am I fake-dating you or Neville?”

There was a rasp of sound as Charlie scratched at his beard. Then he grinned down at her. “How about both of us, then?”


End file.
